Carolyn, I am my father ...

Being a mom is the best thing on earth, as most moms I know will agree. Perhaps the only time I cringe is when I do or say something that flashes back to my mom or dad and realize that parenthood is God's way of paying you back for all the crap you gave your parents. I had one of those moments this morning upon driving my daughter to school.

My daughter seems to think that her dad and I have some kind of psychic power to automatically know when things at school are due: homework, special projects, money for gym clothes, field trips, photos and yearbooks. Actually, all kids seem to think that about their parents, hence the last minute panic, Sunday night, when my daughter came to me for $25 for the yearbook.

"I asked dad for the money and he gave it to me and I forgot to give it to the teacher so I gave the money back to dad and I just figured I wouldn't get one this year but then my friend Noelle bought two and the yearbook lady said I could give Noelle the $25 event though they were $30 now but since Noelle bought them when they were $25 I could give Noelle the money and get it for $25 but I have to give her the money tomorrow which is Monday."

No, she did not take a single breath from start to finish. There was even a pause right after to be sure I got it and understood. After a minute or two (it needed to sink in and I wanted to see how long she could hold her breath after expelling that much hot air.)

"So, I need to give you $25 to give to Noelle for the yearbook lady so that you will get your yearbook this year?" I asked.

"Yes."

I gave my daughter $25 for Monday morning so that she would be assured a yearbook at the end of the year. Then I forgot about it — until this morning.

"Hey, Carolyn, did you get a receipt for the yearbook money I gave you?"

"No. I gave the money to Noelle. She has two receipts and when her yearbooks come in, she will give me one of them."

I stopped the car and looked at my child's sweet face as she explained to me that she and Noelle were friends and that she can be trusted.

"Honey, I don't doubt that she can be trusted, but you guys are 12 and in the 6th grade. Yearbooks come in at the end of the year. You can't even remember where you put your DS most of the time, and you want me to trust that this little girl will remember that you gave her money for a yearbook in two months?"

As I pulled into a parking space to take care of this myself, a look of horror spread across my daughter's face as she realized that I — her mom— was about to walk into her school with her while all the other students were watching. Social suicide for a middle schooler.

"Please don't do this to me," she whispered even though she knew I was gonna do it anyway. "I'll get the receipt, I'll talk to Noelle, I promise."

I didn't trust my daughter to remember to do that. She forgets her homework most nights.

See, in my head, I basically gave some other 12 year old girl $25 without the guarantee that there would be a yearbook at the end of it. I'm not into giving other people's kids money for nothing and was going to make sure that this transaction ended up in a receipt that will produce a yearbook for my daughter or I want my $25 back from Ms. Noelle, the trusted friend, aka: the Bookie.

As we crossed the walk to the school, the crossing guard asked Carolyn what was wrong.

"You look a little pale," he noticed.

"I'm okay, my mom is just making a mountain out of a molehill," she said.

Now, you had to see her walking into the school, two steps away from me with her head bowed like no one was going to connect her to me. I let her have that. She ran to her homeroom before anyone could make the connection between her and me while I made my way to the yearbook teacher.

"Oh yes!" Ms. Yearbook Lady said. "I remember those two. They were supposed to bring me the money so that I could transfer a receipt. Just have them come see me at lunch and I will do that for them."

Relieved, I scouted my daughter out in her homeroom. She looked up, saw me and turned away quickly. Oh, no she didn't.

"Carolyn, honey, come here for a minute," I called out to her from the door, a little too loud, a little too sweet, in my best mommy voice. Damn if those acting classes didn't work for me.

"Carolyn, your sister is calling you," said one of her friends.

"She's not my sister, she's my mom," she ground through her teeth.

She walked over to me as I relayed instructions per Ms. Yearbook Lady and threatened her with laptop restriction should she forget. Then I smother her with kisses and tell her I love her, a little louder than normal. Her friends didn't laugh at her though. It was as though they could feel her pain.

As I left the school, I reflected back on my own adolescence and understood the great joy my dad took in embarrassing me in front of my friends and even people I didn't know. Then I got a little nauseous as I realized that I was becoming my dad. Now I know what "money doesn't grow on trees" means as well as the desire to laugh and beat my daughter at the same time for stupid stuff. Like making drug deals in the cafeteria with my $25 for a yearbook instead of going straight to the source.

Single mom pet peeve

"I know how to do anything—I'm a mom," ~ Roseanne Barr

One of my slowly growing pet peeves is how people like to say they "understand" single motherhood — whether they are the spouse of a deployed Soldier or if they don’t have kids at all. Some of the best lines I’ve heard are, "My mom was a single mom," "My husband is deployed” and "I date a lot of single moms." That last one always cracks me up.

I get that you can sympathize with me, but don’t patronize me (or any other single mom) by attempting to empathize or compare your life with mine. It’s not just pretentious, but insulting. Why would I feel that way when someone is obviously trying to feel my situation? Let me tell you a story:

A few months ago, I had a discussion with my boss at work that became slightly heated. It went from her complaining about how part of the office was taking advantage of the flexibility in hours to my situation with my daughter. With my current custody agreement with her dad, my daughter stays with me for a week at a time. So, every other week, I made sure I left at 5pm so that my 12 year old didn’t have to stay home alone for too long after school.

Everyone was cool with it for a long time, but apparently, my boss was not. I know she must have been holding in that little gem for a long time because she nearly burst a blood vessel by attempting to make her displeasure known to me. She suggested that there was no reason I absolutely had to leave at 5pm everyday; I was letting my daughter stay home alone for an hour and a half every day, what’s the difference if I leave her longer? Maybe I should invest in adequate daycare if I was worried about leaving her. Then she said something that just hit a nerve:

“I’m a single mom, too. My husband is deployed and I have to do everything myself, I don’t have help. I pay for daycare and I arrange to leave ten minutes early everyday so that I can take care of my son.” (Like I didn’t make arrangements to leave at the end of my workday, which happened to be at 5pm.)

I paraphrased, but there it is. Okay, if your husband is deployed and you have to take care of your kids on your own, that does not make you a single mom. Not all the way. Come back and talk to me when you have to work full time, try to make ends meet on one income and have to sacrifice what you want for your child’s needs because the one paycheck you are making is barely enough to get by.

This is not to say that moms who have to do it on their own with their husbands being gone don’t have a rough time. I can sympathize with how hard it is to take care of your kids when you’re used to having your man around. I can imagine the emotional toll that deployment takes on military families; however, I can’t say I know how it feels, so I don’t. That’s a different hardship altogether. I also know that there are a lot of married families just making it on one income or even with two. I would never presume to know what it’s like in their shoes based on what I was able to do, so when I tell someone that I can’t afford the daycare on my salary and I don’t feel safe leaving my daughter home alone for longer than I have to because I worry, they shouldn’t try to belittle me as a parent and hard worker by comparing my situation to their own.

However, I think it's the funniest thing when guys tell me they understand what it’s like to be a single mom. Do you really? Why? Is it because you watched your mom take care of you as a single parent or because you have dated a lot of single moms? Again, unless you are a single parent, just shut up or choose different words. Instead of saying, “I know what it’s like because …” say something like, “I have respect for single parents.” That’s an honest statement that will make your story about your mom, sister or ex-girlfriend more legit. Not like you're trying to impress us with your sensitive side.

When I think about this, I don’t really get mad so much as annoyed. I’m not looking for pity from anyone because of my situation and I don’t try to get special treatment from my employer; I work around my schedule and if I need help, I ask. I’m not the only single parent who works at the company. What I am is a mom trying to work hard at her job and be a good parent at the same time.

Sometimes, you have to know your priorities and it's kind of nice when the people you work with and for respect that.